Broken
by Kai
Summary: My take on what Harry and Ron were thinking at the end of chapter 19, during the fight. It was meant to be slash-y, but really isn't.


Broken   
By: Kai   
I don't own Harry. You all should know that I don't.   
Okay, I'm gonna make these quick; This takes place at the end of Chapter 19 in the fourth book, you know, when Harry and Ron are in the fight. It's kinda my take on what they're thinking, before, during and after. It's supposed to be slashy, but I figured more people would read it if I kept the relationship more platonic. I don't know whether I really got much of their characters in here.. I've never been all that great with characterization. But, this is one of my favorite parts in the books, so I had to write it. And I love Harry and Ron... Anyway, I'm rambling. Watch out for switching tenses and POVs; I'm so bad with first person. So, I'm done now. Enjoy.   


==Ron=== 

It's past one. Where the hell did he go!? 

I stared at Harry's bed, feeling a pang of worry. Stubbornly, I rolled over, refusing to miss him. I hated him, at that moment, more than I ever had since the beginning of the whole fight. He was out, probably roaming the halls with Hermione or something, and I was here, lying in bed. 

Damn, I hated hating him. 

"Yeah, I know, I just saw." 

I sat straight up in bed. There was someone in the common room. "Harry?" Realizing I had said that out loud, I clapped a hand to my mouth. Keeping my hand over my mouth, I crept through the dark dorm, and, silently praying that the others wouldn't wake up, I snuck down the stairs. 

"Go! Go! There's someone coming!" 

It was Harry. I walked into the room, meeting his angry stare immediately. I said the first thing that came to mind. "Who were you talking to?" 

"What's that got to do with you? What are you doing down here at this time of night?" 

There was so much that I wanted to say; I wanted to yell at him for being an ass to me, and yell at him for not speaking to me, and ask him why... But all that came out was, "I just wondered where you --" Oops. I shouldn't tell him that. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed." I kept my eyes on him for another second. 

"Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" He was shouting at me. And I had no idea why. 

Somehow, I got angry. I think it was the raw hatred in his eyes at that time... But before I knew what I was doing, I was yelling back. "Sorry about that. Should've realized that you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on praticing for your next interveiw in peace." Where the hell did that come from?! 

He grabbed one of the "Support Cedric Diggory!" badges that the Creevey's had tried to change and threw it. It took me a few moments to realize that it had hit me on the forehead. It didn't hurt, though I'm sure that was his intent, but that one action managed to sting everywhere else on my body... And it peirced my heart. 

"There you go. Something for you to wear on Tuesday." Harry was drawing in shallow, ragged breaths, seemly trying to calm his rage. "You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky..... That's what you want, isn't it?" 

He was walking past me after that, and then storming up the stairs. But I just stood there, staring at the badge on the floor. Numbly, I reached down to pick it up, my fingers trembling. 

The whole thing was my fault. 

He didn't ask for any of it... And I had been jealous. Of a scar, and a peice of paper in a cup. My best friend. 

I laughed. "Former best friend," I whispered to myself. He hated me. I knew he did. There had been no reason for me to have started the fight... 

I glanced up the stairs, wondering if he was sleeping yet. Probably not. And I sure as hell didn't want to face him just then. My body still numb, I walked over to one of the chairs by the fire. I brought my knees up to my chest, and rested my head on them. After a few minutes, I sighed. 

I missed him.   


===Harry=== 

It was Ron. Dammit, if I didn't get past the dragon now because he had to come down.... 

"Who were you talking to?" 

What?! Anger was quickly flooding my chest, it's uncontrollable waves stretching my nerves to their breaking points. 

"What's that got to do with you? What are you doing down here at this time of night?" After I said that, I realized it was a little harsher than I meant, but not much. 

"I just wondered where you --" Some ray of light hit me with those words. He... He was worried? But he hadn't finished. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed." 

I was mad again. And could he blame me? He was mad at me because.... Because... Because.... "Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" 

He was going red. I knew that as a warning sign... "Sorry about that. Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interveiw in peace."   


That was the wrong thing to say, Ron. I wanted to scream at him that I hadn't asked for any of it, and that he was being stupid, and immature. But instead, I threw a "Potter Really Stinks" badge at him. It hit his forehead, and then clanged against the floor. I met Ron's blank eyes, and said, "There you go. Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky.... That's what you want, isn't it?" 

I dashed across the room, wordlessly asking him to hit me, to break the tension that was mounting between us. Pretty soon, if we didn't end this, I think I'd snap. He didn't move. He stood there, staring down at the badge I had thrown at him, looking rather broken. I think that if I hadn't been so pissed, I'd have felt bad... 

I threw myself on my bed, and lay there, staring up the ceiling. As an afterthought, I yanked the curtains around the bed closed, just in case Ron came up, I wouldn't have to see him. 

I think I knew then that that would hurt too much. 

Hours later, I realized that he hadn't come up. A twinge of regret was creeping into my anger. I felt bad. I wish I had said something... But I threw the badge at him. Good job, Potter. 

I missed him. 

The End 


End file.
